Some things are worth waiting for
by darkmoore05
Summary: ON HIATUS! After a great loss and a even greater surprise Harry decides his life needs a change of sorts. HPSS Warning: AU, slash, M-preg, angst
1. Default Chapter

This story was meant for Kardasi's Zodiac challenge. Unfortunately, my muses took a holiday and then RL hit me pretty bad. Now I have sorted out some stuff and my muses are back. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. No money made, no harm intended. I do this just for fun. I will return them unharmed, cleaned and fed.

A big THANK YOU to my betas Cassandra Pierson and Allzugern

AN: While reading this, remember that some things might not be quite as they seem. You might be surprised...

Prologue 

Harry fell to his knees, totally exhausted. Blood was dripping from a deep cut in his left arm, which had gone numb hours ago. In his right hand he still had his wand in a vice-like grip, his mind not really realizing what just had happened. He had done it. He had defeated Voldemort. The dark Lord was gone for good, his soul shattered, his body reduced to ashes. It was over.

The 'Boy-who-lived' watched as everything around him seemed to turn into slow motion. Death Eaters firing curses at the Aurors while trying to escape now that their Lord was gone. Harry could not hear the sound of the curses being yelled or the screams of the wounded and dying. He could not hear the cheers from those who had witnessed Voldemort's death, everything around him was so surreal at once. His sight grew dim as he suddenly felt the throbbing pain from the wound in his left arm and it was only then he realized that he must have some broken or bruised ribs as well, because breathing was now a hard thing to do. A wave of nausea hit him followed by dizziness and his wand fell from his powerless fingers as his world turned dark.

**Chapter 1: Disappearing**

There was noise everywhere, screaming, sobbing, people running around. Harry opened his eyes carefully, taking in his surroundings. He was in the infirmary, which seemed to be extremely crowded. In an instant Poppy was at his side, smiling down at him a bit. "Harry, dear, you are awake. How are you feeling?" Before he could answer, the medi – witch pointed her wand at him and did a quick scan. Harry watched her and thought she looked like hell. Her face was pale, her hair a mess and her robes were stained with blood and dirt. He had no idea what time it was or how long he had been unconscious, but it seemed to have been quite some time.

"What happened?" The young wizard asked, he couldn't remember anything that had happened after he had defeated Voldemort. He needed to know if his friends were still alive – Hermione, Ron, _Severus _- if they'd only made it.

"You were found on the battlefield, unconscious, and brought here." Poppy started. "You had lost a good deal of blood. You have two broken ribs which have pierced some of your inner organs, including your lung. I cast a spell on you that took care of your inner injuries by stimulating your cells to speed up the healing process or even replace the organs which could not be repaired. The process should be completed by tomorrow morning. Don't worry, you were only unconscious for a little more than 30 minutes and both Ron and Hermione are alive. I have to leave now, call if you are in pain or need anything else." She was about to turn and walk away, when Harry stopped her.

"Wait! Please, I need to know if Severus is alright. _Please_ tell me he is okay." Harry almost begged. He felt so close to him after the events of the last night, finally ready to admit to himself that he loved his former Potions Master deeply.

At hearing Professor Snape's name a shadow rushed over the medi-witch's face. Harry's heart sank. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. "_Tell me!_" he demanded. He tried to sit up, but the pain that shot through him made him think that it was not a really good idea.

Poppy came back to his bedside telling him not to move, before she said, "Professor Snape has been kidnapped by Lucius Malfoy, but…" She held Harry down in bed when he again tried to raise and say something. "...the Aurors took his wand before he managed to escape. The Ministry sent the best Aurors right after them, I am sure they will soon bring the Professor back unharmed. Now rest, I will come back later and bring you a dreamless sleep potion." With that she turned and hurried away to take care of the numerous other patients.

ooOoo

Harry woke the next morning, in an almost silent infirmary. Poppy had been true to her word and had forced him to take some dreamless sleep, though he had not wanted to. He had wanted to stay awake and wait for news about Severus, but in the end he had to give in. Now he was awake and he wanted answers.

When the medi-witch realized Harry was awake she left the infirmary, only to come back with the Headmaster a few minutes later. Harry tried to stay calm. _This has nothing to do with Severus, this is only because I defeated Voldemort…_ he tried to calm himself.

Albus took a seat at Harry's bedside while Poppy closed the white curtain around the bed and put up a silencing charm. Harry's heart began to pound rapidly, he felt that this was going to be bad news. The Headmaster looked old and defeated, the blue eyes behind the half-moon glasses held no twinkle, but looked at him almost apologetically.

"Harry, my boy, how are you feeling?" the old wizard asked.

"I will be fine as soon as you tell me that Severus is alright." The young, green eyed wizard choked out.

"I can't, Harry, I am so sorry." Dumbledore said, his voice heavy with emotion.

"What happened? Where is he?" Harry whispered, his throat tight and burning from unshed tears, his vision blurry and his eyes stinging.

"The Aurors found Lucius in a Muggle hotel outside of London. Severus was not there, but Malfoy was soaked with his blood. He would not tell where he was or what he did to him first, but after the use of Veritaserum Lucius stated that he had killed him by repeatedly hitting his head with a Muggle item. Something Arthur called a baseball bat. He said he then had thrown him into one of the huge trash containers behind the hotel. We could not find his body because they already had taken the trash away. I am so sorry, my boy. I know you were friends and he was like a son to me." Albus was crying silently.

Harry felt like a cold hand was gripping his heart and squeezing it. His chest burned, his throat hurt and he shook his head violently in denying. "No, he can't be dead. He can't be. Not now that Voldemort is gone and he is free. This is a mistake. He can't be dead. He can't be…he can't be" the young wizard sobbed rocking himself back and forth in his bed. Finally he began repeating in an unnatural high voice, "This is a dream, nothing but a bad dream. One of my nightmares, I have many of them, … nightmares …" He was definitely sounding like he was close to hysterics.

Albus got up quickly and fetched Madam Pomfrey, who brought a calming potion with her. She forced it down the struggling wizard's throat and waited a few seconds for it to work, before she sent Albus away. She had to check on Harry's condition, both his physical and mental one.

Harry had calmed down noticeably, now only sobbing once in a while, but still tears kept running down his cheeks. He did not protest when the medi-witch began to cast a complicated and thorough diagnostic spell on him. It didn't matter to him any more if he died. He had lost the one person he had loved most in his whole life. Not even the death of his godfather had been that painful. They could let him die now, he had fulfilled the Prophecy and had killed Voldemort, nothing more to live for…

He was pulled out of his dark thoughts by a sharp intake of breath. Poppy stared at him in pure disbelief. _What have I done, now?_ Harry thought slightly annoyed. He wanted to be left alone with his grief, preferably away from the infirmary.

"Harry, I …I have to ask you a question. I know this is … erm… an unusual question, but I need to know. Harry, did you sleep with someone the night before the battle?" the medi-witch stuttered.

The green eyed wizard blinked a few times surprised by this intimate question, but then nodded unable to speak, while memories of his night with Severus came back to him. How loving and passionate the other man had been, how tender his kisses, how soft his skin. "Why do you ask?" Harry managed to ask the stunned looking witch.

"I think the spell I used to repair and regenerate your inner organs has gone awry. It must have sensed the foreign DNA and well, how should I say it…dealt with it in its own way. I have never seen anything like this before. Harry, you… you have … a womb… and you are … pregnant."

ooOoo

Fifteen minutes and a rather unusual discussion later, the news finally sank in. He was pregnant – with Severus' child. Which meant two things – part of the man he loved was still alive, and he would need to leave the wizarding world as soon as possible. Now he was not only the boy-who-lived or the wizard-who-had-defeated-the-Dark-Lord, no, he would be the only pregnant wizard in over a thousand years – if he remembered his history lessons correctly. Which also meant that someone would try to turn him into a lab-rat and his child would _never_ have a normal life.

Harry made his decision quickly. He would leave today, disappear into the Muggle world and never look back. Surely, he would miss Ron and Hermione terribly, but they were engaged and still had each other. Maybe in a year or two, when the worst was over, he would contact them. He grabbed his wand from his bedside table and told the medi-witch, "I have to go Poppy. I will leave the wizarding world, but I will need your help with this. I will contact you and find a way to bring you to me, but for now, I am sorry I have to do this, 'Intercludo!'". Before the medi-witch could react, he had blocked her memories of the last twenty minutes. No-one would be able to remove this spell, but him.

Poppy blinked a few times in surprise before she said, "You are allowed to leave, Harry, but you should rest some more."

"Thank you, Poppy" the young wizard murmured and then added, "I want to be alone. I am going to my quarters and lay down a bit. If someone searches for me, tell them I need rest, please?"

"Of course, dear, I will do that. It is the truth after all." The medi-witch said, smiling sadly and rubbing the small of Harry's back in a comforting manner. He looked lost and alone, like a little kid, though he was already 20 years old. How many times had he left like this since he was first brought to the infirmary, a burdened eleven year old? Way too many times. She could only hope things would change now.

Harry did not look back, when he left the hospital wing in the knowledge that he might never come back.

ooOoo

Like it? Hate it? Please let me know!

PS: Since RL is much better now, Hangover 14 will be coming soon...


	2. Jim Evans and John Doe

**Chapter 2:** **Jim Evans and John Doe**

Over the next few days, Harry was busy. Partly out of necessity, partly because it kept him from thinking too much. Right after leaving Hogwarts, he went to a Muggle store to buy some items that would change his appearance without using a glamour. A glamour would be detectable. The next stop was a Muggle Eye-doctor who would fix his eyesight with Contact-lenses that would also change his eye color to a deep brown. Then a complicated spell – Dark Arts, but what did he care – would prevent anyone from finding him by searching for his magical signature.

By the end of the week, Harry had bought a little house outside of London with a beautiful garden attached to it, had put up several undetectable protection wards to this house, and had already set up a nursery in one of the rooms. He had bleached his hair to a light brown and had it cut and styled into what the young hairdresser had called 'sexy tousled look'. His scar was fading and until it was gone completely he would cover it with Muggle make-up. The last thing he changed was his wardrobe, choosing warm, earthy tones that matched his now brown hair and eyes and seemed to give his skin a golden tone. At this moment Harry Potter stopped to exist and Jim Evans came to life.

ooOoo

The wizarding world was upside down since their hero had disappeared three months ago. He had left without a word, without a note. Some people thought he had been captured and murdered by remaining Death Eaters, some thought he had disappeared to flee his unwelcome fame. None of them were totally right.

One morning, just as Poppy had sent a student to lay down in her dorm, an owl dropped a package on her desk. Curious as to who had sent it to her, she opened it. On top lay a letter, addressed to her. It said:

_Dear Poppy_,

I know this comes as a surprise, but I need your help. Yes, I am alive and well but I ask you not to tell anyone that you have received this letter – at least not until we have spoken in private. The key ring contained in the package is a portkey that will bring you directly to me. I do not know when exactly the mail will be delivered, but I think it should have reached you by noon. Please meet with me at 12.30 today, I will be awaiting you.

_Best regards,_

_Harry Potter_

The surprised medi-witch read the letter twice, relieved that the young wizard was alive. She never doubted the authenticity of the letter because Harry's personal seal from the Order was on it. That seal could not be created by anyone else, nor could the seal be forged. One of Albus' little inventions.

Finally, 12.30 came and Poppy took hold of the portkey that would bring her to Harry. She felt the familiar tugging sensation as she was transported away, only to re-appear in a beautiful, sheltered garden behind a small house. A young man approached her, but she only recognized that it was Harry, on the second take – he looked so different.

After hugging him silently, she took a closer look at him. He looked good. From what she could tell, he had gained weight and his eyes no longer held the haunted look she had gotten used to seeing the past years. Though the medi-witch could still see a deep sadness lingering there, he actually looked _at peace_ in a weird sort of way. She could not quite put a finger on it, but he was radiating something … special.

Happy that he seemed to be healthy, she said, "You look good, Harry. At least you managed to gain some weight, something you failed to do in all the years I have known you…." She didn't say more, carefully avoiding the topic of Severus's death or his leaving the wizarding world. The grief Harry kept so carefully hidden spoke volumes of the _why_ he might have left.

She followed the young wizard into his beautiful home, curious as to why he had asked her to come.

Poppy did not have to wait very long, Harry spoke the moment she sat down beside him on the couch. "I bet you want to know why I asked you to come here, when I am not sick," he began. "This is hard to explain, so I will just apologize that I did this to you in the first place. Poppy, I am sorry. I blocked your memories with "Intercludo" the day I left the wizarding world, but now I need your help, and I hope you are not too angry with me for having done that to you."

The last words were spoken hastily and the medi-witch stared at him, dumbfounded, not quite believing what she had heard. Harry had used 'Intercludo' on her? Why? What could she possibly have discovered that would make Harry take such a drastic measure? He did not look sick, so she assumed he had not taken away any memories of a serious injury. But what was it?

Her questions were answered when Harry mumbled the counter spell and all of the memories he had blocked came rushing back to her. A surprised gasp escaped her, before she turned to him, a look of awe on her face. "You are pregnant?" She asked first. "You are still pregnant? Nothing happened to you or your child? Your body is accepting the pregnancy?" she asked concerned but curious.

Harry nodded his head slightly. "No, nothing at all happened beside the fact that I have gained weight. I did not experience any morning sickness, nor do I feel tired or unhealthy in any other way. In fact, physically I feel better than I have felt for a long time." He gave her an apologetic half-smile.

That he did not mention his emotional state, did not go unnoticed by Poppy, but she decided to keep silent. Harry would talk to her about his grief when he was ready to speak about it. She would not want to cause him any stress – stress would be bad for the baby.

"So, you asked me to come here so I can check on you and the baby like I would do were this a regular pregnancy?" She asked, smiling warmly.

Harry only nodded. "Yes, please!" he mumbled then. "And erm… could you maybe tell me if it is a boy or a girl?"

"Of course, my dear. Just lie down on the couch and I will run some checks." She took out her wand and pointed it at his slightly swollen belly. Poppy then cast several spells, and after a few minutes a bright smile spread over hear face. Harry noticed it, but before he could ask, the medi-witch told him, "You and your baby are in perfect health, Harry. No need to worry at all. You will have a boy, my dear. Congratulations!"

"A boy?" Harry smiled a sad little smile and sat up again. "I am going to have a son!" he murmured. He thought of Severus and what he would have said if he had known he would have a son; _their_ son.

Having watched Harry's reaction carefully, Poppy touched his arm in a comforting manner. "Harry, won't you tell me who the other father of your child is? Was this just a one time thing and you don't want to tell him? Is that the reason? Or … or was he killed on the battlefield that day?"

They had lost so many good and brave wizards and witches that day, it was possible that Harry's mysterious lover had been one of them. Maybe someone from Hogsmeade or even from the Order.

Feeling his throat tighten at the thought of Severus, Harry tried hard to not lose control, but to no avail. His eyes filled with tears and in his chest a burning sensation welled up, that overwhelmed him every time he thought about his love, and the fact that he would never hold Severus in his arms again. He was gone; gone for good.

"He was the love of my life." Harry whispered in a pained voice and Poppy could hear the deep grief behind his words. "He was the only person who loved me for myself and not the stupid 'boy-who-lived' image the world threw upon me. He was the only one who truly knew me. Time and time again he saved me, protected me with his life. I should be dead instead of him. He deserved to be free, he deserved to be happy. Behind the mask he wore, he was the most lovable person I have ever met." His voice broke and tears streamed down his face. The last words came out like a sob, "I miss him so much…"

Poppy paled. From what Harry had told her, this person he was talking about sounded an awful lot like Severus. She knew he and Harry had become friends after the young Gryffindor had graduated, but she would never have guessed Severus would act on his feelings for the young man – not with Voldemort still alive.

"Severus!" she whispered, cursing herself for upsetting Harry.

"Yes, Severus." Harry confirmed, the look in his eyes was unfocussed and empty in a very scary sort of way. "He is gone, Poppy." He said, his tone as bare of emotion as his eyes. "He will not come back to me. They never do. They all died, because of me. I could not save them so they died. I killed them. It's my fault. I didn't deserve Severus' love and I don't deserve his child. I am not worthy to have something so precious, I will only destroy it. I always do. People around me have a habit of dying, did you notice that, Poppy?" he turned to the medi - witch with unseeing eyes.

Seeing him go into shock, Poppy performed a quick spell and lowered the shaking wizard onto the couch. She could have hit herself for asking about the other father and causing this reaction. She should have known he would not be able to control the pain Severus' loss had brought to him, not after burying and ignoring it for so long. She covered her still shaking patient with a blanket and handed him a vial of dreamless sleep potion. He drank it down without hesitation.

When she was sure Harry was sleeping peacefully, and could not hurt himself, she returned to Hogwarts for a few hours. She told the Headmaster she needed a few hours off and he granted it without asking.

OoOoo

When he woke, Harry felt very weird. The skin on his face felt like it was too dry and was itching and he had no idea why was lying on the couch. Suddenly the memories came back. He groaned and closed his eyes again.

In an instant, Poppy was at his side. "Hello, dear, how are you feeling?" she asked in a gentle tone.

"Like shit. " Harry answered truthfully and sat. "I'm sorry I lost control like this. I must have sounded like a whining kid. I didn't mean to say those things." Harry tried to apologize.

"No, it is alright, Harry. It is only natural for you to have such thoughts and feelings. I would suggest you seek professional help. You should go and see a therapist. Since you most probably don't want to go back to the wizarding world, a muggle therapist would do as well. Find one who is specialized in post traumatic stress disorder. You could always tell him you were working for the police or something like that. You really need help, Harry and you should try to get it as soon as possible."

Harry shook his head in refusal, stating: "As soon as my pregnancy begins to show, I won't be able to leave the house. Concealing charms are detectable, so I can't use them outside the wards I have set."

"That is indeed a problem," Poppy admitted. "Let me think about it for a few days, I am sure I will find a solution. For now, you take good care of yourself and your little one. I will come back in two weeks. Now, cast that spell you certainly have looked up to keep me from telling your secret. Go on, it is okay with me." She smiled at Harry's surprised face.

He did as he had been told and a few minutes later he was alone again.

ooOoo

Poppy indeed found a solution. An old friend of hers, a medi- witch as well, agreed to meet with Harry at his house, and to his conditions. He would put a spell upon her as well so she could not be tracked, nor would she be able to tell anyone that she had even met him.

During the time she visited him, he always used a glamour on himself. When the time came, and his son - Nathaniel - was born, he felt balanced enough to quit the therapy sessions.

As fate would have it, while Harry gave birth to a healthy son, on the other side of the town, in a muggle hospital, the doctors still fought for the life of a man they only knew as John Doe. The only possessions the badly injured man had had with him when he had been brought in, were the strange clothes he wore, and an odd looking wooden stick…

Like it? Hate it? Please let me know!


	3. Progress

**Chapter 3: Progress**

Harry watched as the last rays of the evening sunlight threw a pattern on the ceiling. It was his favorite time of the day lately and he felt at peace. He lay on his bed, his son on his bare chest near his heart, and watched him sleep after feeding him - it was a ritual still new and yet so familiar. His _son_ Nathaniel.

Harry still could not believe he had been blessed with such a miracle. The little boy had been born three weeks ago, after only a little more than seven months of pregnancy. Poppy had told him his body could not cope with the spell induced pregnancy any longer, and he and his son would be in danger if she did not perform a caesarian. Harry had, of course, been afraid that Nathaniel would be too small and frail, but Poppy had assured him everything was going to be fine. She said, if needed, she could help the baby with nourishing potions and a protection spell until it caught up to full-term size.

It had turned out that this was not necessary. Yes, Nathaniel _had_ been small, but he was strong, healthy and had only needed a few stabilizing potions. Harry had been so relieved, he had thanked every deity he knew for having this child. Nathaniel was the most precious gift he ever received.

Taking a closer look at his son and smiling, Harry once again thought how beautiful, how absolutely _perfect_ his little miracle was. He had black, unruly hair, and the most amazing eyes – vivid green with dark brown stripes. It was as if someone had melted his and Severus' appearance together to create something new.

As he rubbed the baby's back, he began to stir a bit. Harry watched in fascination as his son brought up his little fist to his mouth and began to suckle lightly. A wave of love and gratefulness rushed over him, mixing with sadness about his lost love. How he wished Severus could be there with him. Witnessing Nathaniel's first word, first step, first school day. He would miss so many things. Harry's thoughts drifted back to the night they had shared. Fate had only granted him one single night with the man he loved more than everything, before he was taken from him.

Harry sometimes almost believed that night had been nothing but a dream. Waking up, reaching for Severus, and finding only moonlight on an empty bed – had the passion and love they shared only been a fantasy? His deepest fear was that he would discover his night of passion with Severus existed only in his imagination. This fear was gone now, but it left him with a aching heart. Oh, no he did not need to fear any more - now that he had the living, breathing proof of the love they shared that night – Nathaniel, his son.

Harry wondered how it would be to raise him. Had he inherited Severus' grace? Maybe he had his talent for potions making or his patented glare and sneer? Would it hurt to look at him if he turned out to be the spitting image of his dead father? Or would he be the reminder that Severus was never really gone? What house would he be sorted into? Chances were good that he would be a Slytherin. Even though Nathaniel had not shown any signs of magical talent, Harry had no doubts that his son would be a powerful wizard one day.

Lost in memories of days gone by, Harry stared at the ceiling, knowing full well, that wishing for Severus' return would not bring him back.

ooOoo

It was more than ten months since the final battle. Harry had settled into his new life with his son, when Nathaniel's magic showed for the first time.

Nathaniel was on the floor on his favorite blanket, watching the Muggle mobile Harry put up on the ceiling. It was huge and colorful, sporting elves, dragons and a Pegasus that were moving up and down in slow circles. Harry sat in a rocking chair, watching his son taking in his surroundings. He was a curious child and slept less than Harry wished he would.

Throwing a glance at his happily smiling son, Harry got up and made his way to the kitchen to get himself a glass of juice. Nathaniel was alright for the moment, so it was safe to leave him alone for a few seconds - or so he thought.

Harry had just filled his glass and was about to put the bottle of juice back into the fridge when a shrill shriek sounded from the nursery, followed by hysterical crying. He almost dropped the bottle, running to see what had happened to his son.

The scene that greeted him when he entered the room made him stop dead in his tracks. The mobile had dropped down from the ceiling and would have hit Nathaniel straight in the face, if his son had not used his magic. Harry knew it must have been some kind of reflex, but he was grateful for it.

Now, the Mobile was floating a good meter above him and Nathaniel was crying, his head red with anger and fear. Harry grabbed the threatening toy and put it down on the floor, before leaning over to pick up his still hysterically screaming son.

"Oh Nate, I'm so sorry," Harry whispered, rubbing the child's small back soothingly. Harry's hands were shaking slightly from the shock, when he began to walk around the room, rocking Nathaniel in an attempt to calm down the screaming child. He hadn't felt so scared since the moment he sensed something had happened to Severus. Harry was sure he would not survive losing his son as well. Pushing that thought away and concentrating on his slowly calming son, Harry whispered in a soothing voice, "I'm sorry I didn't think of putting up protection charms for you. My poor baby, did it scare you when it fell down? You don't have to cry any more, love, daddy will see to it that this can't happen again. You did so good, Nathaniel, so good. I'm glad you're not hurt…" Harry kept talking and stroking and kissing Nate until the wailing of the little boy died down and he fell asleep.

ooOoo

Hearing came back first. As the man in the hospital bed slowly woke, he realized he was surrounded by strange beeping and wheezing sounds. With great effort he managed to open his eyes to find out where he was. Slowly, all his other senses kicked in. The room was lit so brightly it was hurting his eyes and the air smelled somehow…medical and had a sharp tang of disinfectant to it.

The man in the hospital bed tried to move a bit, but found he did not have the strength to do so. He was so tired and weak and his right side felt like a heavy weight was tied to it. Suddenly there was movement somewhere in the depth of the room and, a moment later, the face of a young woman swam into his visual field. The man in the hospital bed once again tried to move and this time he managed to lift his left arm.

Checking something beside his bed, the young woman dressed in white then turned to him, smiling slightly. "Hello! I'm glad you decided to come back to us," she said, before pressing his arm down on the sheets again. "I'll go get the doctor and inform Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Please don't move again, until we can free you from some of the cables; you could hurt yourself. I'll be back in a second." With that she was gone.

The man in the hospital bed closed his eyes again. He was tired, so tired. He was also confused. Where was he and what had happened? He felt so off, so out of place, so strange. Panicking, the man in the hospital bed realized he could not recall what had happened to bring him to this place, wherever he was. What was even worse was the fact that he could not remember anything, _anything at all_. Not how he ended up here, not who he was nor what he had done before he woke in this bed. _Nothing_! His entire past - his life - was gone from his memory.

The beeping sound that was coming from beside his bed sped up, soon joined by some sort of alarm. In an instant, the nurse was back in his room, checking whatever was stationed beside his bed and then turning to him with a worried face. "Please calm down, Sir!" she said, reaching for a small glass phial and filling a syringe with the contents of it.

At this moment the doctor entered the room, exchanging a few words with the nurse before turning to address him. "Hello, Sir. Welcome back, I'm glad you're awake! I know you must have a lot of questions and you are confused, but you will see, everything will turn out alright. I'll give you a mild sedative now – why don't you rest while we run some tests on you? We will discuss everything when you had a little rest." With that he emptied the contents of the syringe into the infusion that was attached somewhere around his collarbone.

Tired, the man in the hospital bed gave in to sleep.

ooOoo

The next time he woke, the man in the hospital bed saw two people sitting beside him. The elderly couple seemed to have waited patiently for him to wake up.

The woman touched his hand and smiled happily at him, "Oh, John, I'm so glad you woke up. We'd almost given up hope this would ever happen. You don't know us, but we have been at your side almost since you were brought here…."

She was interrupted, when the man, most probably her husband, touched her shoulder and said, "Emily, please, don't you see he's not even really awake yet? Wouldn't it be better to get the doctor and have him explain what happened? We wouldn't want to upset him, would we? I think we shouldn't even call him John, since that is most probably not his name."

The man in the hospital bed tried to say something, to ask where he was and if the knew who he was. The name 'John' didn't sound familiar at all, but there was no other name coming to him either. The man in the hospital bed was fighting down the panic again. Unfortunately, his voice didn't cooperate. On top of it all, the right side of his face – or more precisely the whole right side of his body felt odd. It was some strange feeling between prickly and numb. His thoughts were interrupted when the doctor came in

Later, John – he didn't know his real name and neither did the hospital personnel nor the Smiths – would remember the talk only as a blur. Something about serious injuries to his head that left him in a state similar to suffering from a stroke. On top of it, his vocal cords had been damaged during intubation and speaking would be a problem. He would have to re-learn speaking along with the use of the right side of his body. He would need time and patience for his recovery as well as a good rehabilitation-clinic. The latter was not the problem, since the Smiths had decided to pay for everything he might need; that had included the specialist for cosmetic surgeon that had 'worked' on his face.

John had not yet been able to ask _why_ those people were doing this for him. If he understood the doctor correctly, the Smiths were neither family or friends of his. Right now, though, he did not care too much. All he wanted was to get back to strength, learn to control his body again and stop being helpless. Not being able to do anything on his own was driving him insane. He knew he had a long way ahead of him.

ooOoo

John looked into the mirror in front of him and stared at the face of the stranger it showed. Two months ago, when he first came out of the coma, they had given him a mirror hoping to trigger some kind of memory in him. All hopes had been shattered when he had neither recognised himself nor did it help him to remember.

The face that was reflected in the mirror had high cheekbones, dark, almost black eyes, lips a bit too thin to be considered sensual and a nose that - surprisingly enough - didn't even look broken. His hair was short and black as night, making his skin look even paler. John wondered briefly if the paleness of his skin was just a result of too many months inside hospital rooms, or if he had to watch out not to get a sunburn. He had been told his face had been damaged badly during his accident and John wondered if he looked anything like before. His new face could almost be considered attractive. See it didn't help with his amnesia, though. He still couldn't remember his real name, where he came from and what he had done before. Frustrated, he looked away again. He felt helpless, lonely and even a bit angry when he thought about the fact that he would maybe never get his memories back. His past was nothing but a black hole. If only he could get a glimpse of what lay behind him – but it was useless. Trying to think about his past only made his head ache.

The door opened and a nurse came in. He was to be moved to a rehabilitation clinic today – another debt he would owe to the people who treated him like their own son.

The Smiths had been supportive and patient to a point John could not understand. He was after all a stranger to them. Nevertheless they had paid for his care, for his cosmetic surgery and were now making sure he got the best rehabilitation one could get for money. John had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to ever pay them back – if he ever got his memory back and had the money to do so. Of course Emily and Greg had told him that he would not have to pay them back – ever – but John somehow felt uncomfortable with that thought.

Blending out the chatter of the young nurse who pushed his wheelchair through the corridors, John once again wished he could just get up and walk away form all of this. Unfortunately this wish would not come true.

ooOoo

"He looks a lot like Severus," Poppy said. She was paying Harry and Nate their monthly visit, checking up on both of them as well as keeping Harry updated about the wizarding world. They were in Nathaniel's room, standing around the cot the child was currently lying in, playing with his own fingers and 'talking' to himself. He would squeal once in a while to get the adult's attention, but other than that he was occupied with himself.

Nathaniel was a very well behaved child, making it easy for Harry to raise him alone. He was energetic and curious as well, yes, but he brought joy to Harry's life every single day. Their life could have been perfect, had there not been the aching, empty place Severus' death had left.

"Yes, he does." Harry finally agreed, smiling sadly at his son who looked up at him with huge, curious eyes. "Sometimes when he looks up at me like this, with that slightly curious, slightly suspicious look, I somehow expect him to sneer at me. I don't know I _what_ /I it is that reminds me so much of Severus, but he does have a lot of his father," Harry said, the pain about the loss of his love still audible in his voice.

"At least he didn't inherit Severus' nose," Poppy tried to joke, but Harry only smiled sadly once again.

"I loved everything about Severus," he whispered, pain lacing his tone. "Even his big nose." The young wizard set up the monitoring charm once again, and turned around to leave the room. Memories of the one perfect night of love with Severus threatened to overwhelm him.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Poppy apologized, seeing the distress on his face. She could have slapped herself for causing pain. "I didn't mean to bring up painful memories. I just thought that you might want to speak about it," she offered, rubbing the small of his back before following him out of the room.

"Thanks, Poppy. It's ok, I feel a lot better since the therapy, but I still miss him so much and it just won't stop hurting," Harry confessed, sitting down on the couch in the living room and gesturing for her to do the same.

"I know that, Harry. I miss him too – today even more than usual," Poppy replied, memories of her own time with Severus coming back to her.

Harry looked up questioningly. "Why today? What is special about today?" he asked when she didn't elaborate her answer. Poppy debated with herself as to whether or not she should tell him about it. After a second, she decided to tell him.

"Today the Ministry ended the search for Severus' and declared him dead. Albus will place a tombstone on the castle-grounds tomorrow. He also decided to give up the search for you. The headmaster seems to know that you are alive and well, but don't want to be found. He respects your wishes and decided to leave you be. Also, Professor Dumbledore has convinced the Ministry to call back the Aurors who were searching for your magical signature. Don't ask me how Albus convinced them that you are not in danger, but he did it. That means you can relax a bit, the intensive search for you is over. I expect your friends won't give up so easily, though." The medi-witch smiled. "Ron and Hermione were pretty upset and worried when you disappeared, you know. They still refuse to believe that you might have left of your own volition."

A sad smile once again appeared on Harry's face. "I knew they would never give up so easily, but I couldn't risk letting anyone know about my whereabouts, especially not Hermione. Can you imagine what would have happened if she found out I was pregnant? Me – the first pregnant male in over thousand years. She would have disappeared into the library for weeks to research everything about male pregnancy. You know, even if I she /I had been able to hide it from the world, Ron would have ended up letting it slip sooner or later. Eventually Nate and I would have ended up as lab-rats, savior of the wizarding world or not. Maybe if Severus had been alive and he could have been by my side…but like this…no! It's too dangerous."

Poppy nodded in understanding. "I know that, Harry, I understand. That is, after all, the reason why we got not only fake Muggle birth certificates, but wizarding ones as well." She sighed at the memory of how difficult it had been to get a false wizarding birth-certificate that had the name "Potter" on it. Even on the black market it had been almost impossible to find someone who was willing to name "Harry James Potter" as the father of a child birthed by some random witch – someone they had made up of course. The Muggle papers had been easy. By now, Harry was in the possession of not only the false wizarding papers, he also had a birth certificate stating that he, Jim Evans, was indeed the father of Nathaniel Evans.

There was no hint at all that he was the one who had carried this child to term and Harry was eternally grateful for that.

Standing to leave him alone, Poppy placed a hand on Harry's arm to get his attention. "Harry, maybe you should at least let Hermione know. Now that Nathaniel is born and no one can prove your pregnancy without your permission, maybe it would be good to have her on your side. I'm sure she would understand…and she could make sure that Ron doesn't search too hard for you, since he and the Weasley clan might eventually be able to find you."

Harry nodded in understanding. He had suspected the whole Weasley family was using every single source to find him; maybe a letter to his old school friend was in order. He would ask Poppy to deliver it to Hermione when she visited the next time. This way, no-one could track him down.

ooOoo

**Ten months later**

John sat on a bench by a little lake in the park, watching the various animals around him, when something touched his right leg, startling him. It was a little boy, maybe 18 months old, who looked up at him with a curious look. He was a cute child, with soft looking black hair, skin like porcelain and bright green eyes that had dark brown streaks in them. The boy smiled up at John tentatively and lifted his little arms as if to say, 'Pick me up please?'

Scanning the park for any adult who had accompanied the child, John spotted a young man nearby rushing towards them.

Since the little boy still looked up at him with an expectant look John leaned down to the child a bit, saying softly, "I'm sorry, little one, but I can't pick you up, I fear. I'm not yet strong enough to lift you." Ruefully he looked at the cane that was leaning against the bench he was sitting on.

"I'm sorry my son disturbed you!"

The young man John had noticed moments ago had arrived and picked up the little boy.

"Don't you worry about it," John replied, looking up into hazel eyes. The boy's father was attractive and the tentative smile on his face even added to that. Surprised, John wondered why he thought about another _man_ in those terms. The warmth and the tingling feeling in his belly felt completely natural and _right_ to him. 'Seems like I am more into men, then' he finally decided, filing away the information. That would maybe explain the absence of a family of his own.

Harry was about to apologize again and leave the man alone, when the stranger's gaze met his. His heart dropped a notch when he realized the other man's eyes were almost the same color as Severus' used to be. A sharp sting of loss shot through Harry when he thought about his lost love.

His emotions must have shown on his face, because a worried look appeared on John's face and then the stranger asked, "Are you alright? You look a bit pale all of a sudden. Why don't you sit down beside me for a moment, before you drop your son? You have not disturbed me at all and your son seemed to want to sit with me anyway." Moving his came to the other side of the bench, the stranger gestured for him to sit down.

Coming out of his daze, Harry realized his mistake. It was completely impossible that this man was his Severus. Beside the eyes and the hair color, the stranger looked completely different, he sounded different, he moved different. Hell, he even was slightly I _tanned_ /I .

Putting Nathaniel down on the ground, Harry sat beside the other man on the bench. He extended his hand to the stranger, saying, "Thank you for the invitation. My name is Jim Evans and this is my son Nathaniel. He usually doesn't run off to bother strangers, but he is a bit bouncy today. I hope we really didn't disturb you."

"Not at all," the stranger replied politely, taking the offered hand in his own. "My name is John Doe and I am pleased to meet you and your son. I was just sitting here, doing nothing at all. It's nice to actually have someone to talk to. Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes, in fact I am. Thank you. What do you mean when you say you are glad to 'actually have someone to talk to'?"

A shadow fell over John's face and Harry realized his curiosity might have appeared rude. He was about to apologize, when John spoke, "I am currently living in a rehabilitation clinic so I can re-learn to control my body after the accident I had. Unfortunately I have not managed to 'make friends' there, partly due to the fact that I couldn't speak for long time, and partly because I don't particularly enjoy the company of anyone I met there. So the only people who talk to me – beside the speech therapist – are the Smiths, who visit me twice a week. They are very nice but…" he broke off, looking into Jim's face, who listened carefully while rocking Nathaniel, who had climbed on his lap.

"I honestly don't know why I am telling you all of this. I am usually not that…open about myself or my situation. I am sorry to have been rambling…" John apologized, ashamed he had lost his composure so much and talked about private things to a complete stranger.

"No, honestly, if it's okay with you, I don't mind you telling me those things. I know how it feels to have no-one to talk to. I only have my son to keep me company most of the time and as much as I love him, from time to time a talk between adults is very welcome…"

ooOoo

After their first meeting, Jim and John agreed to repeat the experience and soon they settled into a regular schedule of meeting two or three times a week. This would leave John enough time to meet with the Smiths, but not enough time for either Harry or John to feel lonely or isolated again. A friendship began to form between the two men and it wasn't long before they were talking about the more private aspects of their lives.

One day, a few months after their first meeting, found the three of them in the park again, on a blanket under a tree, having a picnic. Nathaniel was sleeping peacefully between the two adults and after a period of silence, John asked something he had wanted to know for a long time now. "Jim, I know this probably still hurts, but…would you tell me about Nathaniel's mother? He is such a great child and you are doing such a wonderful job in raising him alone…I'd just like to get to know something about his mother." He looked at the slumbering toddler with fondness, before lifting his gaze to the young man opposite of him. "Of course I'll understand if you don't want to talk about it."

After a moment of silence, James took a deep breath and answered, "No, it's ok. I think I can talk about it. It's been a long time since," he hesitated, "since her death."

John waited patiently for his friend to continue. It was obvious to him that even though Jim tried to not let it show, the death of his wife had affected him deeply and he was still grieving for her.

"Her name was Samara," Harry began his fake story in a distant voice. This was not the hard part, since it was a lie anyway. The hard part would be to describe what he had lost. The love and the friendship he had shared with Severus, the feeling as if a part of himself had died that day along with him.

"I met her shortly after school and we fell for each other head over heels. When she got pregnant, we married. Don't get me wrong, I would have married her anyway, this just sped things up a bit." Harry thought about Severus now and the fact that he would have loved to marry and bond with him one day. His next words were authentic. "I just thought I'd have more time. More time before…"

"Before she died," John completed his sentence softly. The grief he could see in his friend's face tore at his heart.

"Yes," Harry murmured, avoiding John's eyes and toying with a leaf that had fallen onto the blanket instead. "She died during childbirth," he lied. It was so much harder than he had imagined, to tell anyone this fake story – it felt like betraying Severus. "All I have left is Nathaniel…and my memories," he choked out, unable to fight the burning pain in his chest about the loss of the person he had loved most in his whole life.

"So you still love her?" John asked softly, ignoring the nagging voice in his mind that demanded to know why the hell this was important

This question Harry could answer sincerely. Looking straight into eyes that were so much like Severus' had been, the young wizard answered truthfully, "Nathaniel's other parent was the love of my life. Nothing can ever change that!"

ooOoo

TBC


	4. Dreams and nightmares

**Chapter 4: Dreams and nightmares**

Pacing around the living room, Harry sighed and rubbed his scarless forehead in frustration. The feelings he was developing towards John were confusing and scaring him. He felt guilty that he seemed to be attracted to John, despite the fact that he still missed Severus like crazy. It was really ridiculous. Maybe it was the little things that John and Severus had in common, like the way that John seemed to resemble Severus a little more each day. Which was odd, as the absence of Severus' strong magical presence, that Harry once could feel almost like a physical touch, was missing. So what was it that called him to this man despite the fact that he still could hardly stand the pain of losing Severus? What was this feeling, that created this strange familiarity that just shouldn't exist?

Harry decided that he needed more information and that maybe a talk with an old friend was in order. It would be good to see Hermione again after all this time.

ooOoo

It was an awkward moment when Hermione finally arrived at Harry's home. The portkey, charmed to work for her magical signature alone, had transported her right into the garden behind Harry's little house. Now here they were, staring at each other, neither of them moving.

Hermione looked just the same as she had about two and a half years ago, when Harry had last seen her, but he knew she was surprised by his changed appearance. Finally, she rushed forward, robes billowing in a very Snape-like manner, embracing him in a tight hug. Harry noticed she smelled faintly of potions.

"You look great, Harry," she whispered, throat tight with unshed tears. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you as well," Harry answered and lead her into the house. Nathaniel was asleep and most probably would be asleep for at least another hour, so he had enough time to prepare her for the news that he actually had a child.

Harry lead Hermione into the kitchen where he had prepared tea for them. Filling two mugs with Hermione's favorite blend, he finally began his story, "I need your advice, Hermione," he said and she grinned amusedly.

"That much you said in your last letter. So how can I help you, besides bringing you some asafetida? You owe me an explanation about that as well, by the way," she chided.

Harry smiled a little smile. "I know that Hermione, but could we please save that part of the conversation for later? I think that topic will take a bit longer and I really need your advice first."

"Alright then," she agreed, sitting down across from him at the kitchen table. He handed her a cup of tea, before he began to speak. "I told you about John, remember? He's…"

"That gorgeous guy you met in the park. Yes, you've talked about him repeatedly. What about him? Have you kissed him yet?" she teased.

"Hermione!" Harry snapped. He'd written her about Severus and how he had been in love with him. He had talked about almost everything to her – except Nathaniel. So since she knew he had lost Severus, how could she think he'd begin something with John and betray Severus' memory?

"What, Harry?" she asked softly. "He seems to be a nice enough guy to me from what I've heard. You deserve some happiness after all you've been through, and being with someone again will make you happy." Hermione's voice was soft and reassuring.

"But…don't you think that…"

"No, I don't think that you are betraying Severus in any way. I may not have known him as well as you did, but I think he would want for you to be happy. Don't you think?" She smiled when she saw the puzzled look on his face.

"How did you…" he started, but was once again interrupted by Hermione.

She placed her own hand over his on the kitchen table and said, "How I knew what you were thinking? Harry, we've been best friends for about 12 years now – I know you very well. This is just the thing you'd be worried about and it's sort of a…tradition that you ask me for help. Besides that – it's quite obvious."

Harry closed his eyes and hung his head for a moment. If it was _that_ obvious to Hermione that he was confused about his feelings for John, wouldn't John see it as well? And if he did what would that mean for their friendship? Sighing heavily Harry touched the baby speaker he had attached to his belt and hidden under the hem of his sweatshirt. He hadn't dared to put up monitoring charms because he knew Hermione would be able to feel them and ask just the right questions. So, by touching the speaker he felt connected to his son even without he reassurance of a monitoring spell.

Hermione saw the movement out of the corner of her eye and frowned. Harry had twice now touched something that seemed to be attached to his waist but she couldn't make out what exactly was hidden there. "What's that, Harry?" she asked, clearly startling him.

"That erm, that is…" he began but then decided to just show her. No use in denying it now anyway. He removed the baby speaker from his belt and placed it on the table between the two of them. Hermione stared at the item as if she'd never seen one in her life before.

"That 's a baby speaker, Harry." She finally brought out, still looking completely confused. In all the time they had owled now, Harry had never even hinted of having _anything_ to do with babies – let alone having one at his home. Why would he, he wasn't likely to father a child with the next best woman, he was gay after all, wasn't he? Or else why would they be having this discussion about John?

"Yes, Hermione, I know that." Harry replied with just a hint of sarcasm entering into his tone. He liked the look of confusion on his best friend's face.

"No, let me rephrase that; why do you carry a baby speaker around, Harry?" she asked curiosity lacing her voice. Harry was acting really strange about this whole ordeal.

"Maybe because I need to hear when my son wakes? I haven't put up monitoring charms after all and I really don't like to keep him waiting," Harry answered Hermione's question in the most innocent voice possible, obviously enjoying the way her jaw dropped when he said 'my son'"

"Did you just say you have a _son_?" Hermione asked when she found her composure again. "How come you didn't mention him before? And who is the mother? How old is he anyway? Is that the reason why you are confused about your feelings for John? Are you not really gay after all? How could you not mention such an important fact?" She shot questions at Harry faster than he would ever be able to answer, wanting, _demanding_ to know what this was all about.

"Calm down, Hermione, I'm going to answer all of your questions. I understand that you are confused and angry, but let me explain, please? There _is_ a good reason why I didn't tell you or anyone else about him sooner. And I need you to promise me that you won't tell a soul either. Promise, or I'll take care of that for you myself." His voice had gone hard on his last words, making it perfectly clear what would happen to her if she revealed the existence of his son to anyone at all.

"Sure, Harry. I won't tell anyone if that's what you want. I haven't told anyone about you, have I? Why would I talk about your son?" She sounded a bit hurt and angry and avoided looking him in the eye, playing with her tea-cup instead.

"I needed to be sure, Hermione," Harry replied. "You'll understand once I've told you everything. So, to answer your questions, I didn't mention him before because I was not yet ready to tell you about him. His existence however has nothing at all to do with my confusion about John, but his parentage most definitely does. Which brings us to the difficult part. Come with me," he requested, rose form his chair and offered her his hand to help her up.

Dumbfounded Hermione rose to her feet as well, letting herself be lead into the living room and the computer that was sitting on a desk in one corner of the room. She had seen it when she came in earlier, but hadn't paid too much attention to it.

Harry reached for the mouse, clicked some folders and a moment later a picture appeared on the screen. It was a snapshot of a happily smiling boy, waving into the camera. The child had delicate features, framed by tousled hair that was as black as night. Long dark lashes were making the unusually colored eyes seem even bigger and stood at a stark contrast to the flawless, pale skin.

Hermione gasped. Whatever she had expected, _this_ was definitely not it. This was no infant any more, this was a toddler, far older than she had imagined. Also, even though she had expected to see something of Harry in his son, the _coloring_ - for lack of a better word – of the child's skin and eyes were so unlike Harry's and yet so terribly familiar. She needed a second to think about _why_ the child's looks were so special, when realization dawned.

"How old is he?" She whispered, her eyes glued to the monitor and the picture of Harry's son.

"Nathaniel will be two years old soon." Harry answered, knowing that she was about to figure his secret out. "The asafetida I asked you to bring is for him, as you might have guessed. I thought it was time to provide a bit of magical protection for him And who would be better suited for that task than Potions Mistress Hermione Weasley?"

Hermione seemed to shake free from her trance like state and murmured, "His other father, maybe, if he were still alive?"

A sad look crept into Harry eyes as he answered, "A lot of things would be different, Hermione, if Severus were still alive."

"So it's true then." Hermione whispered to herself. "Sweet Merlin, Harry, _how_?" she asked, sounding awed and sad at the same time. A whole lot of things finally made sense to her. Harry's sudden disappearance, Poppy delivering the first letter when no-one seemed to have contact to Harry at that time; and the fact that even after owling him and getting some answers, it always felt as if there was _more_. Something Harry wasn't able or willing to tell just yet. Now she finally understood why.

Harry sighed, closed the picture on the screen and said, "I suppose you want the whole story; that will take some time. How about we sit down and I fill you in on the facts I have been hiding from you in my letters?"

The two of them moved to sit on the couch and Harry began his lengthy explanations about the way Nathaniel had been created and pregnancy, birth and all the other things Hermione was curious about.

When Hermione finally left two hours later, Nathaniel – who had woken in the meantime - had wrapped her around his little finger. Leaving the asafetida on the kitchen table she disapparated away with a permanent portkey and the promise to visit again very soon.

ooOoo

It wasn't the first time that John had been to Jim's house and still, something was different today. John couldn't put a finger on it, but the house seemed to _feel_ different and it somehow _smelled_ different as well.

Shaking himself out of the weird mood he suddenly was in, John concentrated on the task at hand; Nathaniel's second birthday was coming up in less than two weeks time and they planned to do something special together then. Maybe visit a circus or amusement park, but definitely having a cake and lots of fun. So, this was one topic that would be discussed over the next few hours.

John had the feeling that Jim was somehow nervous and fidgety today and he thought about talking to him about it. He followed Jim into the kitchen where he had gone to fetch some orange juice for them.

When John entered the kitchen, he found the answer as to why the house smelled so different. There was a small cotton bag lying on the kitchen table that emitted a very strong and very…odd scent. John moved closer to the table, not able to resist the urge to touch, to feel, to _smell_ the bag that held the source of that unpleasant smell.

As if in a trance, John took the little bag from the table, feeling the texture of the cotton before lifting it to his face to smell it more thoroughly. John had a feeling he should _know_ what this was, should know it's purpose. Before he could finish his thought, white hot pain seared through him, making him feel like his skull was being split in half. Suddenly there were images in his head, he saw a room full of children, stone walls, parchment on a desk beside a pot of red ink. As fast as the images had appeared, they vanished again and John was left dizzy and disoriented. He grabbed the edge of the kitchen table for support, groaning at the pain that was still throbbing behind his temples.

Jim, who had been standing with his back to John, roaming around in the fridge, whirled around to see what was wrong. In an instant he was by John's side, a worried look upon his face. He grabbed John's arm and helped him sit on the kitchen table, before asking, "John, what's the matter? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine" John relied through gritted teeth. "Suddenly have a bit of a headache. Must have overdone it at the clinic today." He brought out, trying not to worry Jim any further.

"Are you sure you're okay? Would you like a painkiller?" Jim asked, watching John carefully. "Maybe you should lie down for a while."

"I don't need to lie down, but a pain killer would be welcome. Thank you for your concern, I appreciate it." John replied, rubbing his eyes tiredly when another flash of pain shot through him, accompanied by the image of a phial of some sort. But once again it was gone as fast as it had come. When John opened his eyes again, he found a very pale Jim staring at him with wide eyes.

"Is something the mater, Jim?" he asked, when Jim didn't move or say anything at all.

"Ah…no…" Jim replied pulling himself together visibly. "Just for a second, you sounded like someone I knew a long time ago." He turned around and took a bottle of painkillers from one of the top shelves and handed John two little white pills with a glass of juice. "Here, take these, that should help."

John took the painkiller without hesitation, trying not to get excited about what might actually be a breakthrough in finding his past. _If_ those flashes had been memories, then maybe he had a chance to actually remember his past one day. He might have a chance to find out who he had been, after all. For now he just hoped there wouldn't be any more flashbacks – they were painful and disturbing. He couldn't use any distractions right now, not when he had a nice time of planning and plotting in good company ahead of him.

Fortunately for him, the flashes didn't come back that night.

ooOoo

John woke with a start panting heavily, his belly sticky with his own cooling semen. He had had an incredibly weird, yet arousing dream. It had begun like every other dream he had had lately. He was someplace he did not know - someplace old. There was this strange old man in purple clothing and a man with long blond hair. Usually at this point his dream turned into a nightmare when a shadowy figure with glowing red eyes appeared. This time, his dream had turned out different, though. A young man appeared and stepped between him and the scary creature, smiling at him brightly.

The young man was handsome, well built, with soft lips, tousled dark hair and bright green eyes full of emotion. There was an angry red scar on the young mans forehead, but he did not seem to care. To John's great surprise, the young man had leaned over and kissed him.

His surroundings changed and John found himself on a bed, naked, the green eyed youth on top of him. Grinding against him, his dream lover licked his earlobe, whispering into his ear, "Take me now. Make me yours!"

Flipping them over, John could do nothing more than obey. Burying himself into the tight heat of his mysterious lover, John soon tumbled towards orgasm, enjoying the look of pure bliss on the younger man's face.

Moments later he woke alone in his bed.

Sighing, John got up and made his way to the bathroom to clean himself up. While doing so, he thought about the young man from his dream and what his appearance might mean for him. If he were honest to himself, John had to admit that his dream lover had more than slight resemblance to Jim.

Was his subconscious trying to tell him something? Had the quick hug James had given him upon leaving today caused this?

Yes, he found Jim Evans attractive, yes he had watched him secretly, knowing he could never let Jim know he was attracted to him. The young father would most probably be scared away by such a confession. He obviously liked women, since he had a child and had been married. That he had loved Nathaniel's mother was more than obvious. No, the friendship he shared with Jim was too precious to risk it by telling him the truth. Jim would eventually overcome his grief for his late wife and find a nice woman who would be a good wife for him and a loving mother for little Nate.

John ignored the feeling of longing he felt when he thought about the little boy. He was a charming child and Jim had every right to be proud of his son. Even though John could not remember any of his past, he somehow knew he had no children of his own. Not only was he homosexual, but also no-one seemed to have searched for him. Maybe he had no relatives at all.

Somehow that thought saddened John.

ooOoo

The next day found John at Emily's and Greg's house again. He had just had another appointment with his rehabilitation therapist and was now visiting Emily for tea.

Lowering himself into a comfortable chair in the living room, John dropped his cane to the floor. In an instant, Emily was by his side setting down a cup of tea on a little table near him.

"How was your therapy, John?" she asked and smiled warmly before she sat down opposite of him.

John sighed. "It is getting better, but I would prefer to not have to go there any more. I am so sick of Muggle hospitals." he answered.

Emily looked at him dumbfounded and just when John began to wonder what he had said that had caused this reaction, the woman spoke again. "What did you just say?" she asked.

John blinked surprised. "I said that I would prefer to not have to go there any more, because I am tired of the hospital?" he offered.

Emily shook her head, a look between sadness and awe on her face. "No, John, you called it a _MUGGLE_ hospital."

"I did?" John asked surprised. He had spoken without further thought and was a bit irritated that he had used such a strange word. "Maybe something from my past," he mused. "Do you know what it means?" John asked curiously. From the look on Emily's face, he would have bet she did.

She looked at him, clearly debating with herself if she should tell him, but then decided to do so. Sighing slightly she answered, "_'Muggle'_ is the wizarding term for non-magical people. It seems you are a wizard, John. That would make sense - you could have been hurt in the final battle against 'you-know-who'." she said.

John looked at her as if she had lost her mind. "What are you talking about? Magic, wizards... You must be kidding me. There is no such thing as magic." he said sternly.

"You are wrong, John," Emily replied softly. "I will prove it to you when the time is right, but first I would like to see the things you had with you when you were found. I hope you still had your wand with you."

"My wand? You mean that odd looking wooden stick that I had with me? You can't be serious!" Panic gripped John. So, he had not imagined the tingling sensation he had felt when he had touched this stick...wand. Suddenly, John felt dizzy. The dreams he had had might have been real then. The figure with the glowing red eyes, the young man in his dreams with the bright green eyes, who looked so frighteningly like Jim, the bearded man in the strange purple robes - they were _real_? Did that mean even his dreams of making love to the green eyed youth were real? Or were they a product of wishful thinking?

TBC


	5. Memories and hard decisions part1

**Chapter 5: Memories and hard decisions – part 1**

John sat on the bed in his room, a small wooden box lying on the comforter in front of him. He stared at it, trying to gather up the courage to finally open it. In the box were the things he had had with him when he'd been brought to the hospital on that day. It wasn't much, only a small pocket watch, two empty vials which were – given the state his clothes had been in – surprisingly enough still intact and…his wand.

Emily insisted it was a _wand_ and he had to call it by the right name. He had refused at first, thinking she was completely crazy to believe in something like magic and wizards, but Emily had just given him a small smile and asked him if she had ever lied to him. John had to admit that she had not; from the moment John had been able to talk to her and Greg, she had always answered his questions truthfully. And there had been a lot of questions in the beginning. The most urgent had been, "Why are you doing this for me?"

Emily had answered, even though the answer had brought back painful memories – John could see it in her eyes. She had talked about her only son, Oliver, who had been at the intensive care unit as well, when John was brought into the room next to him. She talked about how Oliver had fought for his life – and eventually lost. She told him how she spoke with a young nurse she had befriended and found out that John was fighting for his life as well, but no-one was there to be with him. Emily talked about how she and Greg began to visit with John as well as Oliver, hoping that, should he be able to recognize anything at all in his comatose state, John would not feel alone. She and Greg had continued visiting him, even after Oliver had died.

When it was clear that John would survive, but would get only the most basic medical treatment, Emily and Greg decided that they would speak up and ensure that John got everything he needed. They were wealthy and Oliver had been their only child, so if their money could help someone in need, they decided that it was worth it, and that Oliver would have agreed.

John was quick to realise that Emily's big heart and generous nature was the reason why he was in the condition he was in now. She and Greg treated him like their own son and he had had the best treatment he could have wished for.

So, who was he to question Emily if she insisted magic was real? Who was he to doubt she really was something she had called a "Squib" – a non magical person born to wizarding parents? Who was he to question her indeed…

Scolding himself for stalling, John gathered all his courage, opened the wooden box and took the wand in his hand.

For a second, nothing at all happened, but when he curled his fingers around the smooth wood more tightly, the wand in his hand began to vibrate just the tiniest bit. Startled, John dropped it on the bed.

This couldn't be happening, that was just…impossible, wasn't it?

Carefully, John picked the wand up again and this time he didn't let go even when the wood began to slightly vibrate and warm in his hand. It was like the wand needed to get familiar with him again. Just when John thought that this felt somehow _familiar_ a searing pain shot through his head again. Pieces of a conversation floated through his mind. _'Foolish wand-waving…bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death…'_ Flashes of images were dancing in front of his eyes. There were stone walls and…_cauldrons_?

Just before John thought he'd pass out because of the pain, it stopped. Once again he felt dizzy and disoriented, but in a strange way also calm and collected. He knew now that he would get his memories back for sure, and with Emily's help it might be sooner than he ever imagined.

ooOoo

Harry watched Nathaniel's peaceful sleep for a few moments longer, before putting up the monitoring charms again and heading for the kitchen.

It was two days until his son's birthday and everything was planned out already. Hermione would come over in the morning, and later John, Nathaniel and he would go to the zoo. There would be cake and candles, ice-cream and balloons. Everything Harry hadn't had when he was young. It was going to be so much fun…

His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Cursing under his breath Harry hoped whoever was at the door had not woken Nate with the noise. He opened the front door and was surprised to see John standing in the doorway. They hadn't planned on meeting today and John had never before shown up without calling first.

Curious what might have brought John to his home, he greeted his friend and opened the door wider to let him in.

John passed him, stepping into the hall while reaching for the bag he carried. "I've brought you the photos we took last week." He said, looking up just in time to see Jim throw a worried glance at Nathaniel's mostly closed bedroom door. If the alarm went of now, Jim had no way of explaining this. He needed an excuse to go to Nathaniel's room and take down the monitoring charm, before his son really woke.

"What's the matter?" John asked, looking at Jim expectantly.

"I think I heard something from Nate's room. The baby speaker is broken and you might have woken him with the door bell. I'd better check on him real quick, alright?" Jim asked nervously. Of course he already knew Nate was still asleep, the charm made sure of that, but it was a good excuse to enter the room and take down the charm.

"Oh, Jim I'm sorry. I didn't pay attention to the time. I didn't even think about the possibility that I could wake him," John said, looking guilty.

Before Jim could react, John had crossed the floor in two long strides and had silently pushed the nursery door open. Careful not to make any sound, John approached the cot Nate was lying in, Jim right on his heels. Damn, he had hoped John would let him go in alone. Now he'd have to take the charm down wordlessly and his wordless magic was even more rusty than his wandless magic.

Jim watched as John stepped even closer to the bed, watching Nate carefully. For a second, Jim wished this was Severus looking down at their child lovingly. If he tried hard enough, he could make himself believe this was Severus.

Then John turned around and mouthed 'still asleep', bursting the fantasy about Severus. Suppressing a disappointed sigh, Jim concentrated on the monitoring charm, pushing his magic out to it wordlessly to take it down. Somewhat out of practise, the burst of magic that Jim sent out to take down the charm was strong, in fact a lot stronger than he had intended. When it passed John, something strange happened. For a moment there was an intense flash of magical energy coming from John, magic that reacted with Jim's magic. But in the next instant, it was gone.

Jim blanched. This couldn't be happening. That was completely impossible. Muggles didn't react that way to magic, that was just not possible. And that magic… Jim felt the room around him beginning to spin. That magical energy, short lived as it had been, was as clear as a neon sign to him. There was no doubt about the fact hat he had just felt Severus' magic.

ooOoo

Hermione Weasley looked up surprised when her fireplace flared and a moment later a letter appeared in the green flames. She got up to retrieve it, wondering why Harry might have chosen this form of communication – it was fast, but not overly secure, so they barely used it at all.

When she opened the letter and read the short note, a sense of dread washed over her. There were only a few words on this parchment, but even in them she could sense the panic. The note said, _Need your help. Please come as soon as possible. I'm awaiting you_

It wasn't signed, but that wasn't necessary, Hermione knew who it was from and what to do. Not knowing what was wrong she grabbed a bag with the most common pain and healing potions and activated her portkey. Moments later she found herself in Harry's living room. Her best friend was sitting on the couch, his face buried in his hands, but he looked up when he realized she was there.

Hermione made her way over to the couch and sat down beside Harry. Without a word she set down her bag and put an arm around his shoulders, offering comfort.

"What happened, Harry?" Hermione finally asked, worried about the state Harry was in.

"I'm not sure, Hermione." Harry answered, finally looking her into the eyes. "John came over, earlier. He brought photos of Nate and I was just glad he didn't wake him with the doorbell. I didn't have the baby-speaker with me and, of course, couldn't explain the monitoring charm, so I needed an excuse to go into Nate's room and take it down. I didn't want to take any unnecessary risks of the charm going off later on. But John went into the room first and he just stood there and looked down at Nate. At that moment I wished it would be Severus standing there, watching our child sleep.

"Anyway, I had to use my wordless magic in order to take down the charm and then it happened. When my magic hit John, he _reacted_ to it. There was actual _magic_ colliding with mine. But it wasn't just some random magic, it was _Severus'_ magic and it was coming from John. I don't know how that is possible, Hermione. One moment he is standing there and I try to make myself believe he is Severus and then…then he began to _feel_ like Severus. What's happening to me, Hermione? Am I going insane?"

A worried look crossed Hermione's face. "Harry, your wards are set to protect you and Nate from any magical being that wants to harm you, right? What about Muggles? Or people whose magic has been bound? Could they pass your wards?" Hermione's mind was racing, Harry could see it.

"No, Muggles or people who had their magic bound will not be affected by the wards, why? Surely you don't think John would do something bad to me or Nathaniel? He's a nice guy." Harry answered defensively.

"Harry, think about it," Hermione said impatiently. "Out of the blue you meet this man, he's had surgery on his face, a false name and claims to have no memories of his past. How do you know he's no Death Eater in disguise or someone else who wants to get near you without being found out? Did you think about that? Did you even think about the possibility that you might have felt magic from John because it really was there? Maybe the binding charm on his magic is failing, maybe it's something else – you never know." She looked at him sternly and her jaw dropped when he began to laugh at her.

"Hermione I have to say you are even more paranoid than I am. Did you really think I would invite a complete stranger into my home without checking his story first? I'm Harry Potter, do you really think I've learned nothing at all over the years? We've been at war, Hermione and Sev would have had my head for being careless with the safety of my child. Of course I made sure John really is who he said he was." Harry grinned.

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she asked suspiciously, "Harry James Potter, what the hell did you do?"

"Oh, Hermione, nothing, nothing at all, besides checking some background information about my new friend John Doe. Like when he first was found and where, for example. But papers can be manipulated and information can be bought so I used a source that is a bit more…let's call it _direct_"

A disbelieving look crossed Hermione's face. "You didn't," she whispered.

"Of course I did. I put a drop of Veritaserum into his orange juice on our second picnic. I had to make sure he is really who he claims to be. No-one can lie under Veritaserum, you know that, Hermione. It was the only way to assure the safety of my son." Harry's tone was serious, the look in his eyes hard and unforgiving.

"You used Veritaserum on a _Muggle_? Are you insane? That's dangerous, Harry!" she chided.

"Hermione, calm down. You know as well as I do that I'm more than capable when it comes to the use of Veritaserum. Nothing bad at all happened to John. He answered all my questions and he told the truth. He really can't remember his past. He really spent all this time in hospital and he really has no magic at all. That's the truth. This brings me back to my first question, Hermione. Am I somehow responsible for this magic? Am I imagining this or am I going insane?"

Rubbing her hands over her face slowly, Hermione thought for a few minutes. Then she looked her best friend straight in the eyes and said, "I think this was a case of wish magic."

"Wish magic?" Harry echoed, looking surprised. "But I've not used wish magic in…ages. You know that I can't let my magic slip like that, not with the amount of power I have at my hands. It's dangerous. What am I going to do now, Hermione?"

Hermione sighed. Harry wouldn't like to hear what she had to say, but it was the only reasonable way. "Harry, you need to let go of Severus. You need to say goodbye to him and accept that he is not coming back to you. As long as you compare John to Severus, as long as you _wish_ it were Severus instead of John, this will happen again. You will create your own reality, will feel as if Severus is here, but he won't be. Please don't do this to yourself and please don't do this to John. It's not fair to him either. He's a person all his own, he's not a second Severus. If you can't keep those two apart, you're just setting yourself up for heartache."

Harry swallowed hard. He knew Hermione was right, he was sure he'd done this himself. He was feeling like he was going insane already, and it was bound to get worse the longer he wished he was with Severus instead of John. She was right, still, it hurt.

"You should do it soon, Harry." Hermione said silently. "If you don't do it, you'll hurt him and you might possibly lose him over this. Please don't give up this chance for happiness, Harry. If someone deserves to be happy, it's you." With that she kissed his cheek, took her bag and stood.

"I'll go now, Harry. Call me if you need me, you know I'll be there for you whenever you need me."

Then she was gone.

ooOoo

"You want me to _what?_ You must be joking. I am not going to step into a burning fireplace, even if the flames are green." John looked at the patiently smiling Emily like she had lost her mind.

"John, trust me, alright? Healer Simmons is awaiting us at the hospital, you have nothing to fear. How about Greg steps through first and I'll go after you? This way you will see that no harm has come to Greg and he will be able to catch you, should your first travel by floo be a bit …bumpy. You might feel a bit shaken and disoriented first, but you will be perfectly fine otherwise. Trust me with this, John, I've done it dozens of times and I'm still alive and healthy, am I not?" A mischievous twinkle entered her eyes and John couldn't help but smile a bit. Emily really was impossible.

"Alright then, show me how it's done," John finally gave in, feeling as if he had just signed his own death sentence.

Greg came forward, clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Just do as I do and you'll be perfectly fine. I'll be waiting for your arrival on the other side and help you out. Trust us, you've nothing to fear." With that he grabbed a hand full of the substance Emily had called 'floo powder' and threw it into the fireplace.

Instantly the flames turned green and Greg stepped into them without hesitation. John watched wide eyed as Greg clearly said "Healer Simmons' office, St. Mungos" and vanished.

"And now you, John," Emily encouraged. "Go on through, I'll be right behind you." She smiled at him patiently.

Gathering his courage, John repeated Greg's actions of throwing floo powder into the fireplace. Then he took a last, calming breath and stepped into the green flames.


	6. Memories and hard decisions part 2

A/N: There have been reviews asking me to update more frequently, and if I was able to reply to you, I did. For all those reviewers I could not reply to directly, I'll say it again right here: I'm sorry if you feel that I am updating too slowly, but I do have a life outside the internet. RL, muses that won't cooperate and a stay in hospital have delayed my writing and I won't post anything I am not 100 satisfied with. I'm doing what I can, to promise anything else would be lying to you. Thanks to everyone who revied!

**Chapter 6: Memories and hard decisions – part 2**

Harry stood silently for a few moments. He hadn't been here for a very long time; since before the final battle, actually. He was looking at the little clearing he and Severus had used for their training sessions, away from the prying eyes of the students and Merlin knew who else.

Since this place was just outside school grounds, Harry didn't have to worry about triggering the wards. He knew he would be undisturbed because the only way to reach this clearing was to either walk through the Forbidden Forrest, or apparating there, which required to know the exact location – and not many knew.

After a moment Harry set down the little wooden box he had brought with him and started to set up his bonfire. He worked in silence, using the preparation time to settle his nerves a bit. Finally, when he was done and the fire was burning, he sat down on the grass, Indian style, and opened the box he had brought with him.

In it, on top of several other items lay a framed picture of Severus. For long moments Harry couldn't bring himself to touch it and take it out, because he knew then he'd really have to say goodbye. But that was what he was here for, wasn't it?

"You can do this," Harry told himself and lifted the picture out of the box with shaking hands. He placed it on his lap and closed the lid of the box again, carefully. Then he took a deep breath and finally focussed on Severus' face in the non-magical picture. The face of the man he loved, frozen in time. He did not smile – Severus rarely smiled after all – but his eyes held more than enough emotion to make up for that.

"Hello, my love," Harry murmured, stroking the picture he held, tenderly. Then he laughed, a broken half-sob. "I'd bet you'd sneer at me if I'd call you that to your face." He paused, clutching the framed picture to his chest, "No, you _would have_ sneered at me, Sev, but that's the whole point, isn't it? You're gone. That's why I'm here. To say goodbye. To let you go. To set you free and accept that you're not coming back." He paused again, taking a deep breath, before looking once again at the only picture he possessed of the man he still loved with all his heart.

"Heavens, Sev, how am I supposed to go on without you? How am I supposed to survive without you watching my back? How am I supposed to raise our son without you at my side? He looks so much like you, Sev, so much…" Tears were blinding Harry but he made no attempt to wipe them away.

Then, suddenly angry, Harry jumped to his feet, pacing in front of the little bonfire he had made. "How could you, Sev'rus?", he yelled. "How could you let yourself be taken by fucking _Malfoy_? How could you let _him_ succeed when not even Voldemort managed to take you from me? How _dare_ you leave me alone like this? I _needed_ you, Sev, don't you know that? I always did … I still do…" the last words were only a painful whisper.

As if he had blown all his energy with this little outburst, Harry crumbled to the ground in front of the fire again, sobbing helplessly. As quickly as his anger had come, it vanished again and it left nothing but emptiness in Harry's heart. Somehow, during all this time, a little part of himself had been holding on, had kept believing that this somehow, miraculously was going to be alright. That it all had been a mistake, nothing but a bad dream. That somehow the famous 'Potter luck' was going to spare him the pain of actually losing Severus. Now it was time to face the truth. Severus was not going to come back to him. So Harry sat in silence, making himself familiar with the thought that it was finally, truly, over.

"I'm sorry, you're not to blame, my love." Harry finally murmured. "I know that. I know that only Lucius is to blame…" He stroked the picture again, silently. "I'm not blaming myself either, if that's what you're worried about. It's like they said, I couldn't save everyone, not even the people I love most," he said tonelessly.

Taking a deep breath, Harry opened the small wooden box again. He took out a letter and then placed the picture back with the other things the box held. There were a few items that Severus had given him during their training, a small pensieve with memories of Severus, and the little snake figurine Harry had given to Severus for his last birthday. Poppy had brought it with her one day and had handed it over to Harry without a word.

With a wave of his hand Harry sealed the box and magically sent it to one of his vaults. Nathaniel would receive this box one day, when he was old enough to understand what had happened to his other father.

Finally, Harry knelt in front of the bonfire, letter in hand. "I wish I could hold you in my arms just one more time. I wish I could say goodbye to you properly. I wish I wouldn't have to say goodbye at all. But I know I have to, " he began. "In this letter, I have written down all the hopes and dreams I had, about living with you, bonding with you, loving you. Even the ones that entailed you coming back to me, helping me raise Nathaniel and any other children we could adopt. Everything that now never will be."

He paused for a moment, watching the flames dance, before he raised his hand and dropped the letter into the fire. "Goodbye, Severus."

ooOoo

The office didn't look any different than any other doctor's office he had visited during the last months; although John had to admit that the clothing of the man behind the desk was anything but usual. He was wearing some sort of turquoise robes and had a wand lying in front of him.

"Ah, there you are, Mr Doe. I hope your first travel by floo wasn't too unpleasant?" Healer Simmons asked and shook John's hand.

"If I am really some sort of wizard, then it wasn't my first, was it?" John pointed out and resisted the urge to squirm under the searching eyes of the other man.

Healer Simmons broke in a wide grin, "You're completely right, Mr. Doe. But it is the only one you remember, isn't it?" he pointed out, gesturing for Greg, Emily and John to take a seat.

"Yes, it is." John agreed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable when the other man lifted his wand and seemed to want to point it at him. John didn't know why the fact that a wand was pointed at him made him so uneasy, he only knew that it did.

Healer Simmons seemed to sense John's discomfort and hastened to assure him, "This will not hurt at all, Mr Doe. All I will do is cast an identification spell and a diagnostic spell on you, and then we will see to it that you get your memories and of course your magic back. Mrs. Smith here informed me that your wand reacted to your magic? That is very good indeed, it means the healing process has already started. You will see, we'll have you fixed in no time at all, trust me." With that he smiled at John encouragingly and then raised his wand. "Cognosco!" A strand of silvery light emitted from the healers wand and slowly formed a name. _Severus Snape_.

Healer Simmons blanched and almost dropped his wand. "It's _you_!" he brought out. "_You're still alive. We found you_." he stammered, and a slight unease settled in John's stomach. Was this a good or a bad reaction? Obviously the Healer knew him, had at least heard of him, and someone _had_ been searching for him?

Confused, John turned around a bit to look at Emily and Greg. To his surprise their faces showed the same shock that could be seen on Healer Simmons' face. Maybe this wasn't so good after all. Maybe he had been on the wrong side in this war Emily had told him about? Maybe they had searched for him to imprison him? John felt like he was ready to bolt, but he knew he'd never make it even to the door leave alone out of this strange hospital, wherever he was. Not only was he still none too steady on his feet without his cane, the Healer had a wand and he knew how to use it.

Mentally preparing for the blow that he was almost sure was to come, John was surprised about the words the Healer finally spoke. "Professor Snape, don't you worry, sir. We'll have you back to your old strength in no time. I am sure your memories can be restored as well, and before you even know it, you can go back terrorizing students and claiming your order of Merlin. First class, of course, wouldn't do for one of our war heroes to go undecorated now, would it?" he asked something akin to awe and quite a bit of nervousness creeping into his tone.

John just stared at Simmons with a blank expression on his face. Order of Merlin? Professor? War hero? He wanted to ask all of this, wanted answers, but when he finally spoke, what came out of his mouths was, "Why would I terrorize students?"

"I think we shall put off this little conversation until you have your memories back, Professor. I'm sure all will reveal itself in due time. Now, let me have a look at those injuries of yours. I imagine that Muggle item Malfoy used must have done quite some damage, for your magic to shut down. Usually the magic only shuts down completely when the wizard is close to dying and all resources are needed to keep the body alive. In some cases, such as yours, involving a severe head injury, the magic is not able to 'jumpstart' itself until much later – if ever. You were very lucky that your magic is so strong, or maybe you are just more used to … injuries…" he trailed off clearly looking as if he had said too much already.

Healer Simmons then waved his wand again in John's – no _Severus'_ direction and muttered a number of spells in quick succession. John – Severus felt uncomfortable under the searching eye of the Healer, feeling exposed and vulnerable. He'd never felt like this with the other doctors before. Maybe this was due to the fact that this man _knew_ him, knew of his past when he couldn't remember it himself. It was unnerving to say the least.

Finally, the Healer seemed to have found what he was looking for and a small smile settled over his face. "Yes, it is as I thought, Professor Snape. I can heal your injuries and also give you your memories back."

John released a breath he had not been aware he was holding and from the corner of his eye he could see Emily and Greg relax as well. "That is so great, John, erm… Severus." Emily exclaimed and touched his arm in an comforting manner.

"There is one exception though," Healer Simmons spoke up again, bursting the happy bubble for them. "I will not be able to reverse the plastic surgery that has been done on your face, Professor Snape. You will have to either use a permanent glamour to change your features back to what you looked like before, or you can opt for more surgeries – magical ones – that might give the desired effect."

"Oh," was all John said for a moment before he asked, "could I think about it for a while? I think I'd like to get my memories and health back first, before I make such an important decision."

"Well, of course, Professor Snape, that is the wisest thing to do. Now let's get down to business, shall we? I think I'm going to do the memory restoring charm first. Are you ready?" Simmons asked, clearly excited and thrilled about what he was about to do.

"As ready as I'll ever be," John answered sarcastically. His stomach was churning with anticipation. He didn't know what to expect. Fear and excitement were wrestling inside of him, making his heart beat faster and his head spin.

Then Simmons raised his hand and muttered a spell and suddenly it all came rushing back. Every little detail of the years he had forgotten, every memory he had thought lost forever. It was all there for him to grasp and hold onto. A multitude of emotions rushed over Severus' face as he breathed out one word, "_Harry_…"

Severus was only vaguely aware of his surroundings, he didn't pay attention to the Healer still whispering charms and spells at him. As a sudden jolt of energy shot through him, Severus forced his foggy mind back from the memories he was drowning in, and raised his face to look Simmons in the eyes. The Healer smiled at him knowingly, saying, "Welcome back to the wizarding world, Professor Snape. You just got your magic back."

It was true, Severus realized. He could feel the magical energy humming inside himself, crackling just beneath his skin, making him feel more alive than he had felt since he had woken that day in the hospital bed.

At that thought, Severus had to suppress a groan. They had treated him in a _Muggle_ hospital. It couldn't get any more barbaric, could it? They worked with scalpels and were _sewing_ wounds closed. Oh goodness, it was a miracle that he was indeed still alive. He'd have to tell Harry and Dumbledore and… " His thoughts came to an abrupt halt when he realized who 'James Evans' really was.

He blended out the murmured spells the Healer was still bestowing on him to mend his broken bones and fix his limping. The whole meaning of what he had just discovered about Harry Potter and James Evans came crashing down on him. Harry had fled the wizarding world. Harry was in hiding. Harry didn't know who he was or that he wasn't dead. Harry had a son. Harry had a _two year old_ son. Fathered shortly after the war, most likely.

'_Right after he had slept with me'_ Severus thought. 'Right after he thought he'd lost you' his mind supplied helpfully. Damn.

Thinking frantically about how to make this mess right again, Severus came up with close to nothing. He couldn't just walk into Harry's life, expecting the youth to accept that his good friend John Doe – who he was about to fall for, if Severus wasn't mistaken – was his supposedly dead one time lover. That wouldn't go over well, not at all.

Harry would feel guilty, his Gryffindor senses would make sure of that. Not that they had declared their undying love that night, but it had been clear that it would be more than a one time thing if they survived the final battle. Severus could only imagine what must have happened after Harry thought him to be dead. The young hero surely had thrown himself at the nearest woman, seeking comfort and oblivion in a few hours of shared passion. When it had resulted in a child, Harry had done the honourable thing and married her.

Something didn't seem to fit into this picture though and suddenly Severus knew what it was. One sentence, spoken in a grieve filled voice by someone he believed to be James Evans. _Nathaniel's mother was the love of my life…_

Severus closed his eyes briefly from the pain this sentence evoked in him. For Harry had been the love of _his_ life and most probably always would be. That another person, a woman, had managed to take this place in Harry's heart was plain agony.

Thinking his options through quickly, Severus came to the only logical conclusion; he would have to go back to Harry and say goodbye to him properly. But he would have to do it as John Doe. This was the only way he would be able to deal with this part of his past and also his new life. There was just one big problem, though, Harry would know it was him the moment Severus came near him. That would ruin his plan completely.

Shaking free from the memories he had wallowed in, Severus finally raised his head and addressed. Simmons, "There is just one more thing I have to do before I can go back to the magical world and I need your help for this" he said, looking the healer straight in the eyes. "I need you to bind my magic again."


	7. The road to hell is paved with good

**Chapter 7: The road to hell is paved with good intentions**

In the silence that followed Severus' words, you could have heard a pin drop. Then, all hell broke loose. Emily, Greg, healer Simmons, all were talking to Severus at once, which lead to Severus understanding none of them. "Silence!" he snapped in his best teacher voice and all of them obeyed instantly.

Taking a calming breath, Severus then addressed the healer, "Healer Simmons, I asked you for your assistance in a personal matter, not for your advice regarding my life. I trust that you are bound to your oath not to talk to _anyone_ about my medical records or any findings. So, you _will_ help JOHN DOE to bind his magic again until he is good and ready to join the wizarding world. You will not reveal the identity of John Doe to anyone else outside this room. Have I made myself clear?" Severus' tone was icy, his voice dangerously low.

"Yes, of…of course, Professor Snape," Simmons stammered, intimidated by his patient's behaviour. He had not met Professor Snape before the war had ended, but he had, of course, heard stories about him and his role in the war. No wonder Simmons was scared by him.

Severus ignored Simmons now and turned around to look at his two freinds. His face softened and he allowed some of his anger to drain away. Severus knew they only meant well, they didn't deserve his wrath. He smiled at the couple slightly and said, "Emily, Greg, I know you mean well and I am very thankful for everything you have done for me. But due to reasons I cannot explain right now, it is important for me that no-one finds out that I am Severus Snape. I have to take care of some important issues first and if it were common knowledge that I am not dead, things would become complicated very quickly." He looked into the eyes of his friends and silently begged them to understand.

Emily smiled at him, taking his hand. "John…Severus, you don't have to explain anything at all to us. If that is your decision, if that is really what you want, then we will support you, of course." She looked over to her husband expectantly, who nodded silently in confirmation.

Severus felt a rush gratitude towards them. The Smiths had been so supportive, so understanding that it truly amazed him. Severus Snape, Ex-Death Eater turned spy wasn't accustomed to this sort of loyalty and trust, wasn't used to this amount of selflessness. Not even from Albus, the one person he had called friend for a long time. But, if he was completely honest with himself, the person he had been before Malfoy had tried to kill him, the _old_ Snape, would most probably have made a sarcastic remark about such Gryffindorish foolishness. He'd never known anyone like Greg and Emily – besides Harry, of course. It still pained Severus that he had been forced to treat Harry so badly during his schooldays. Severus always had known that Harry was a good – if a bit reckless – person and sometimes he had wished he could have expressed it. Even later, after Harry had graduated, it was necessary to sustain the façade of cold indifference. To think something other than a careful truce would be possible before Voldemort was gone would have been suicide. It was a cruel twist of fate that he had gotten a glimpse of what could have been between them, that night before the final battle.

"Thank you. It's good to know I won't be alone after this is sorted out. I am sure my return to the wizarding world will go anything but smoothly," Severus said imagining the problems that would arise if he came 'back from the dead' after all this time.

Then he turned to the healer again and fixed him with a stern look. "Healer Simmons, I believe you have a few spells to cast on me."

oooooOooooo

Albus Dumbledore re-arranged the papers on his desk and sighed. He didn't like paperwork much and today it seemed to be even worse than usual. The syllabi were a mess, the new DADA teacher a catastrophe, and he still had not won Hermione Weasley over for teaching Potions.

"I'm getting too old for this, Fawkes," he murmured and the Phoenix trilled at him encouragingly. Albus reached for his tea-cup, when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. It was the magical clock he now didn't really need any more. During the war it had been a good way of keeping track of the order members, but since the war had ended it had no longer any real use. Albus hadn't had the heart to take it down though, it was a dear memento to him.

The hand with Harry's picture had been stuck somewhere between 'Infirmary' and 'Indifferent' since his disappearance, while Severus' one had been firmly stuck on the 'gone' position. To his great surprise, Albus realized that it was the hand with Severus' picture that was moving now. A jolt of excitement rushed through the headmaster as he watched how the hand moved around the clock. To his disappointment though, Severus' hand came once again to rest on the 'gone' position – the position it had been in for over two and a half years. Where had it been before it had began to move, Albus wondered. It was a pity that he obviously had missed the first movement of the hand. Albus was sure it was either the Burrow, St. Mungos or the Ministry of Magic it had been at. It shouldn't be to hard to find out where Severus had been and maybe even find out where he had gone.

The possibility that Severus could actually be alive and well made Albus' breath catch in his throat. Maybe his boy had survived after all – somehow, somewhere. They shouldn't have given up the search, they should have kept trying to find him. It was a sobering thought, like being doused in ice-water. They had failed Severus again – _he_ had failed him. The tea-cup tumbled out of Albus' numb hands, spilling tea all over the papers on his desk. Fawkes trilled in a comforting manner, but was ignored.

Paperwork and tea forgotten, Albus shot out of his seat and headed to the fireplace – he had research to do.

oooooOooooo

'Nate's totally out of it,' Harry thought and smiled, as he looked down at his sleeping son. The birthday boy had fallen asleep halfway through the walk around the zoo. Nate had eaten loads of cake and ice-cream and two bright balloons were now attached to the stroller he was sitting in. A huge smile had been plastered over his face every waking minute of the day. Harry knew he had had a blast. Now the boy had fallen asleep, totally exhausted from the days events.

The morning had been spent with Hermione, she had brought chocolate frogs, a miniature broom and her own version of a Weasley jumper for Nate. After she had left and Harry put Nate in bed for a short nap, John had arrived and the three of them made their way to the zoo. Large portions of ice-cream turned Nate into an hyperactive little whirlwind and for a moment Harry had been worried that John might have difficulties keeping up with them. But John had surprised him by saying he'd finally had a breakthrough in his rehab, so even though he was still limping a bit, he was feeling much better. Harry felt a weird sense of foreboding when John said that, but couldn't explain why.

Now they were sitting on a bench in the shadow, Nate sleeping in his stroller, a comfortable silence surrounding them. Still, Harry had the feeling that something about John – or maybe the problem lay in himself – was off. He couldn't put a finger on it, it just seemed like John was holding back on something. Harry knew this feeling so well, because he felt a bit out of sync with his new life persona, Jim, at the moment. The morning with Hermione, the little 'saying goodbye ritual' he'd done so recently – they all had brought 'Harry' more to the surface than was strictly good for 'Jim'. And Harry was beginning to feel slightly schizophrenic.

It was _Harry_ who interacted with Hermione, and he was also the one who had needed to say goodbye to Severus in order for _Jim_ to be able to maybe fall in love with John. Jim, who had once had a wife he had loved and who was a Muggle, just like John.

Harry suppressed a sigh as he thought about how complicated his life had become again, but there was no other way; he could never be 'Harry' with John and, if he really wanted to maybe see if there could be more than friendship, then _Jim_ better remembered that. He'd just have to learn to deal.

oooooOooooo

Severus Snape was not a happy man. He'd been a spy for most of his life and yet, pretending to be John Doe was the hardest thing he ever had to do in his whole life. He looked at Harry, this new Harry who called himself "Jim" and his heart ached.

Severus had always been a 'no nonsense' person, believing in what was past and gone should stay gone. He firmly believed that dwelling on missed opportunities and 'might have been' brought more trouble than it did good. And yet, when he looked at Harry, seeing the man he had become – a single father, pretending to be a Muggle – then Severus wondered how things would have turned out had Lucius Malfoy not almost killed him.

Would Harry and he have had a future? Would Harry still have fled the wizarding world? Would they have raised Nathaniel….ah, no, Nathaniel wouldn't exist in that reality because most likely Harry would never have met that woman. That thought gave Severus pause. He couldn't imagine Harry's life without Nate in it – the little boy was a wonderful child and a true blessing. It wasn't right to imagine him gone, not even for a moment.

When Severus had first met with Harry and Nate earlier that day, he had known he couldn't say goodbye to them today. Not on Nate's birthday, not when both of them were so happy. He knew he'd have to see this day through, as hard as it would be with the knowledge that this might very well their last time together. But leaving was necessary. He couldn't go on being John Doe and he couldn't step into their lives as Severus Snape, either. It really was better this way, Severus knew that. Cut the bond before it could get any stronger, and the hurt would be lessened.

Last night, alone in his bed, Severus had allowed himself a moment of weakness. He had laid there, picturing how his life could be if Harry would somehow, miraculously accept him into his life as Severus Snape. How he would not only be overjoyed that Severus wasn't dead, but how he would ask him to share their lives, raise Nathaniel together maybe even think about going back to the wizarding world. They could be a family – something Severus never would have thought he would long for so much.

Those dreams, fantasies, had left him with a burning pain of loss and longing in his chest. He knew he couldn't have this life, and thinking about it only meant torturing himself. It was wishful thinking, nothing more. They were the dreams of a man who had gained a glimpse of what happiness could be and then had it snatched away again.

He couldn't go back to his old life, his old routine, and, even if he could, he didn't want to. Severus knew he wouldn't want to go back to just teaching children every day. He didn't want to live at Hogwarts, knowing Harry was out there without him. Severus knew that he could never let anyone know that he had actually found Harry, that he knew he was alive, had seen and talked to him.

And in turn, he couldn't let it be known that he was back from the dead, that he was alive and teaching, claiming back the life he had once had. Harry wasn't stupid, besides the asafoetida, there was no indication whatsoever, that he had in fact still connections to the wizarding world. And if it hadn't been for his re-acquired memories, he hadn't know what the strong smelling bag of herbs was, either. Anyway, Harry would get to know about his mysterious resurrection in no time and all would go downhill from there. No, Severus had made up his mind. He would register with the Ministry of Magic, keep his new face, choose a new name and move someplace far away from Hogwarts. He'd open a little Potions Shop and live the rest of his life as someone else. Severus Snape could stay dead for all he cared. That name hadn't brought him any luck ever. Anonymity could be a good thing, as Harry's case showed. He and Nate were obviously very happy and Harry had even left the wizarding world completely.

Yes, that was what Severus would do – stay dead and start over someplace else. No-one besides the Smith's and the healer knew who he was, and they wouldn't say a word. He didn't possess anything any more, his worldly goods had gone to Albus and – hopefully – Harry too, when he had been declared dead. Severus hadn't possessed much of value in the first place and he knew that Albus would take good care of the few precious books Severus had held dear. The only thing Severus regretted was, that he wouldn't be able to pay back Emily and Greg any of the money they had spent on him.

Severus considered taking an identity that would somehow connect him to the couple that meant so much to him. They would definitely stay in touch. He'd make sure his floo was connected to their fireplace and they would be always welcome, wherever he might end up at.

Still, somehow the life Severus had ahead of him didn't hold as much appeal to him as the life he was currently living. Of course he knew that one day this had to end – it wasn't real – but parting from the life he had lead for the last couple of months would be harder than he'd thought. But his decision was made and he didn't waver.

He would say goodbye to Harry and Nate within a week's time and he would never look back. A life with Harry wasn't his for the taking and no matter how much it hurt, leaving them was his final decision.


End file.
